No Tickets

The rude voice announces

That those without tickets

Must leave the train immediately.

People quickly fumble in purses

And bring out small, bright objects

They have carefully tucked into corners.

Mementos delicately wrapped in tissue

Appear and are disregarded;

Pockets are turned inside out.

And the clear voice announces

That those without tickets

Will kindly prepare to descend.

 

Some are angry and declare

They will sue the railroad

For this humiliation.

Others stare quietly down at their empty hands.

The conductor hurries along the aisle;

His eyes are sad—

They do not understand.

 

On the crowded platform, the people avoid each other’s gaze

And watch with puzzled, angry eyes

As the shining locomotive moves swiftly out of sight,

While the clear voice politely directs the people

To the nearest exit.